Lost Knight: Interlude
by Kusco
Summary: Two years after the destruction of the Death Star, Han and Leia must infiltrate Coruscant in order to rescue Luke from an unknown peril. Meanwhile Obi-wan has to affect his own escape while being hunted by the Emperor's Hand. Follow up to Lost Knight: A New Dawn
1. Intro

"You may now remove your flight glasses," the synthesized voice of the droid stewardess said. "Thank you for choosing Star Tours and welcome to Imperial Center."

"Coruscant," Leia muttered just loud enough that only Han could hear.

"What?" Han folded away his flight glasses.

"The planet is called Coruscant," Leia said. "But the Empire is so brazen that they think they can just rename an entire planet to make themselves feel more important."

Han glanced around, as Leia must have done, to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped upon then cocked half a grin. Behind both of their seats, Chewie let out a mirthful bark accompanied with a growl.

"You said it Chewie, Come on sweetheart, you don't even remember a time when it wasn't Imperial Center," he said.

"It's the principal of the thing," Leia said.

Han just laughed. "You should watch yourself, you're starting to sound like _him_."

"What do you mean sound like him!?" Leia said as Han stood. He just grinned and squeezed around her, making sure to fire a devious smirk her way as their bodies brush past each other. "Who do I sound like?"

"You know who I'm talking about," he said as he busied himself with getting their luggage out of the overhead compartment; all the while several passengers tried to squeeze their arms, legs and tentacles past him.

In spite of the lightness of their banter, he still couldn't believe he let her talk him into this. Being an enemy of the Empire in the Outer Rim had its risks, venturing into the Mid-Rim could be very dangerous, but taking a trip to the Core? Many would consider that out and out suicide.

Yet here they were, perhaps two of the Galaxy's most wanted beings, walking off a transport and onto a landing deck in the Galactic City. Everywhere he looked, he could see security droids, checkpoints manned by stormtroopers and camera drones hovering every which way.

"You're sure these contraptions will work?" Han said as he followed Leia toward the security exit.

"The Alliance has used them for years to sneak in and out of highly secure planets," Leia said. "Don't worry, any facial recognition scanner will be completely fooled by it."

"Swell," Han muttered. "So as long as no one recognizes us with their eyes we'll be fine. I've told you this plan is crazy, right?"

"At least half a dozen times," Leia smirked.

They neared the final security checkpoint, this one a station flanked by a couple of bulky security droids and troops to match. Passengers lined up to have their id and faces scanned before they were allowed into the city proper. Han could only bite the inside of his lip as he looked around for R2, who still had his blaster tucked away in a secret compartment. But that was no good. R2 was in the cargo hold and would be released with their luggage.

"I feel like I should tell you at least one more time," Han said just before they got to the checkpoint.

Lucky for him, but not his reputation of being right, they got through the checkpoint with surprising ease. The identification tags they presented named them and Jysella and Jarod Hess, and the facial recognition program seemed to have fooled the droids as well. Soon they were stepping out onto the main platform, awaiting the speeder they'd rented and their droids to be delivered.

"So, _Jysella_," Han said, finally managing a genuinely sarcastic smile. "I can't help but notice that the id's you gave us are a little bit… close."

"Well I had to come up with some way to explain why we were traveling together if we were asked," Leia shrugged. "Siblings seemed to do quite nicely."

Han's smile faded and he tried to work out what exactly the Princess was playing at making them related instead of… other possibilities. He didn't even notice R2 and C-3PO approaching as he worked on this. "Wait… siblings? As in Brother and sister?"

"Or _other_ depending on the species," Leia said, getting into the hovercar all the while C-3PO chatted merrily with R2 about how good it was to be back in civilization again.

Han pulled himself into the driver's seat, his brows furrowed, not simply because he couldn't stop thinking about how creepy it was to be Leia's brother, but also a general annoyance at having to hear Golden Rod in the back running his vocoder every couple of seconds.

They took off and Han quickly ascended to the nearest skylane, where they had to come to an immediate stop and start limping along. It was yet another reason he preferred the Outer Rim to the Core. Probes and skycamera's recorded every lane. If a single vehicle broke formation and actually decided to use the sky to get where they needed to go, they could expect at the very least heavy fines, at the worst… stormtroopers knocking down their door.

After several minutes of just staring at the bumper of the hovercar ahead of them, Han turned to Leia. He had intended to start another conversation about the whole, sibling thing, get her to admit that, that was the wrong call, but the worry lines on her face told her that would be the wrong choice.

"Look," Han finally said. "I'm sure Luke is fine. He probably just got into a little trouble and blew it out of proportion."

"I don't think so…" Leia said. "He wouldn't have contacted us unless it was serious. He knows that where I go, Obi-wan goes."

"Right," Han nodded grimly and edged the hovercar forward. "You know I really wish the Kid would get over whatever it is he's got against Obi-wan. The Old Man's proved himself time and again."

"That 'Old Man' is barely older than you," Leia rolled her eyes but then sighed. "And I wish Luke would come to terms with him too. I think Obi-wan reminds him too much of his time with the Empire."

Han merely grunted and settled in to the driver's seat a bit more. They'd unfortunately caught the rush hour traffic, and it wouldn't be getting any easier from here considering they were headed for the Old Market. It would be nearly as packed as the skies.

"You still haven't told me where he is," Han said.

"Yes I did," Leia said. "We're meeting him at the Old Market."

"No, not Luke," Han said. "Obi-wan."

Leia glanced out at the cityscape then shrugged. "I was able to talk him out of coming. He's the most wanted man in the Galaxy so it's dangerous enough for him in the Mid-Rim, he'd be apprehended in an instant if he came to Coruscant."

"You mean Imperial Center," Han quirked a smile.

"Shut up and fly."

It took them nearly an hour and a half to get to the market and then another half hour to simply find a parking space. In the end they had to remind themselves to 'walk casual' even though they were cutting it dangerously close to missing their appointed rendezvous.

Upon entering the open air of the market, Han nodded to himself. It was as good a place for a covert meeting point as any on Coruscant. The hundreds of booths, surrounded by all manner of goods, peddlers, patrons made hiding simple and eaves dropping hard. Not to mention the fact that it was one of the few places on Coruscant's upper levels were non-humans were still allowed. They wouldn't stand out with Chewie beside them… well, not more so than usual.

"You want to remind me again why we didn't just fly in the _Falcon_?" Han said as they pretended to examine some Deralian Golden Fruit. "I'd sure feel a lot better about this if I knew we actually had a reliable ship to get out of here if things get dicey."

"The _Falcon_ is too recognizable," Leia said. "Remember this is an extraction from the most heavily monitored planet in the Galaxy. If all goes to plan we'll fly Luke's ship out, if not we'll sneak him and Winter off the same way we got in."

"Right, because a J-Type Nubian Starskiff is way less noticeable than the _Falcon_," Han muttered then looked around. "Where the hell is Threepio?"

Leia glance around, R2 still followed nearby, chirping as he rolled past the many late afternoon shoppers. He beeped a couple of times when he noticed them looking at them, as though asking if he should deploy their weapons from his casing.

"Not yet R2," Leia said. "Only-"

"There he is," Han grumbled as he spotted the golden droid.

"I really need to run him through a diagnostic," Leia shook her head. "He's been acting so strangey lately."

"We ought to run him through a scrap heap," Han said, breaking off and approaching the droid who looked to be perusing a booth of weapons.

"See anything you like?" he all but growled at the protocol droid when he reached him.

"Oh Captain So… that is Jarod!" Threepio raised his arms in surprise. "Do not worry, these aren't real weapons, just replicas. We're not here to buy contraband."

"Fantastic," Han shook his head, his eyes rolling over the assortment of weapons. The blasters were all fakes, but there were a couple of vibrowhips that he would bet his last credit were the genuine article.

Without another word he grabbed Threepio by the arm and dragged him away from the stand.

"Captain Solo!" Threepio said. "I don't understand what I've done wrong! I was merely trying to 'blend in' as you said!"

"Oh yeah," Han said as they approached Leia and R2. "Because so many protocol droids browse for prop weapons."

"Perhaps we're putting on a show of some kin-"

He was cut off when Chewbacca broke through the crowd, his face obviously distressed, the hair on his head standing a little stiffer than before. Han glanced to R2, then the Princess, but she wasn't looking at either Chewie or himself. Her eyes were fixed on one of the many floating vid monitors that hovered all around the market.

Chewie pointed at them and he turned his attention to the monitor to see Obi-wan staring back at him. Han was about to say something about it when he found himself looking closer. The image initially looked like Obi-wan sitting in a cave with his Jedi hood over his head, but on second glance he noticed the gray beard and the wrinkles, to say nothing of the yellow eyes.

"That's… not Obi-wan…" he muttered.

As if to answer his doubts, the video began to speak with a similar accent as Obi-wan but in a more gravelly, dark, tone.

"Citizens of the Galactic Empire," he said. "Once again I appear before you. Once again I, Obi-wan Kenobi, reveal myself to you to offer you further warning of what your future entails. Even now my forces in the Rebellion are mounting for an attack the likes of which this Galaxy has never seen. Soon the streets of Talravin, Coronet, even Imperial Center itself will run red with the blood-"

"What the hell is this?" Han finally said to Leia, who managed to pull her blazing eyes off the screen.

"One of the reasons I didn't want Obi-wan coming here," she said, her face somewhat flush with anger. "Imperial propaganda that started running about a year ago. They're trying to scare people away from seeing Obi-wan as the hero he was during the Clone Wars."

"Didn't Imperial Propaganda get the memo that Obi-wan is about half that age?" Han glanced up at Faux-bi-Wan still issuing threats to the general populace.

"They probably thought people wouldn't believe it if Obi-wan was still in his prime," Leia said. "I've been working with Command on a way to discredit these recordings. Biggs has a few ideas, but until then I don't want Obi-wan knowing about them, he's got enough on his plate as it…"

She trailed off as a sudden movement in the video caught her attention. Faux-bi-Wan had stopped his tirade and was now looking off screen as the sounds of a struggle filtered through. The distinct sound of blaster fire came a moment before the imposter was thrown off screen by some invisible force.

Moments later a cloaked figure with a blue lightsaber came onto the screen. He looked around for a moment before shutting down his blade, clipping it to his belt, and lowering his hood. Kind eyes, with the faintest twinkle in them now stared out the screen and a soft smile came beneath his light brown beard.

"Hello there," Obi-wan, the real Obi-wan said. "Sorry to interrupt but I was passing through the neighborhood and thought I should pop in to introduce myself. I am Obi-wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight. The man you've been watching all these months, as you saw, due to his inability to resist me, was an imposter. An actor employed by Imperial Propagandists with the intent on deceiving you all about the nature of the Jedi and the Alliance to Restore the Galactic Republic. But that really is emblematic of the nature of the Empire. They work through brutality and deceit, even to the point where they have tried to convince you all that this planet is called Imperial Center and not Coruscant as it was in the Old Republic…"

Han glanced over to smirk at Leia but stopped himself when he saw her staring intently at the screen, shaking her head in utter disbelief at what she was viewing.

"… I'm afraid you've all been deceived. The Empire promised you a safe and secure society. In return all you had to do was give them a little more power. And each time it happened you told yourself that it was necessary, that surely this was as far as it would go. Surely, with this or that right claimed by the Empire you would be safe and secure enough. And so it went, with the Emperor side stepping law, and the Senate in order to "save" people. Something he has been allowed to do until he was able to abolish the very legislative body that first gave him this power.

"Must I even go on to describe what he has done with that power? I could be on all day laying out the atrocities that have been committed in the last twenty years. But I feel that all I need to do is ask, how many more worlds would have suffered the same fate as Alderaan if the Alliance had not destroyed the Empire's weapon?

"But you know all of this, the lines of communication are not so closed that even here in the Core, in the Heart of the Empire, you do not know the horrors that have been committed in the Emperor's name. My simple question to you then is… what are you going to do about it? What part will you play in the days to come as the Rebel Alliance works ceaselessly to liberate the Galaxy and restore true peace? I know the thought of resisting the Empire is frightening, I know you feel as though you have no power to fight back.

"I'm sorry, but you're wrong. What the Emperor fears most, more than the Rebel Alliance, more than the return of the Jedi, is that the people of Corellia, the people of Onderon, even the people of Coruscant, will someday realize that they don't need him. You don't need to be told what to do, what to think, and what to say! You don't need a government bureaucrat to give you permission to live your life as you see it. You are so much more than a simple underling in the Empire. You, each and every one of you, is unique, is touched by the Force in some way, is completely capable of knowing and doing what is the very best for yourself!

"The Emperor knows this and that's why he's trying to device us. Loyalist against Rebel, human against alien, even man against woman. But you all know we're better than that, you know that we are all so much more, especially when we work together. And I promise you that if enough of you truly realize this, truly understand how powerful you are… not all the Death Star's in the Galaxy could stop you…"

Obi-wan glanced off screen for a moment then sighed.

"It would appear that my time is at an end. The agents of the Empire are at the door and if I don't affect my escape now I'm afraid we will not be able to have another one of these chats. Now I know that many of you dismiss what I say as hopeless optimism or the ramblings of someone that belongs to a hokey religion, but in ending, I have only one thing left to say, one thing that during my time, meant a great deal.

"Remember, the Force will be with you, always."

Obi-wan waved his hand and the transmission went dead. For a brief moment the entire gawking crowd stood still, merely staring at the vidscreens as though awaiting for them to come back on with further footage or messages. When the screens finally did flicker back to life, all they did was show the Imperial Seal. Then the streets erupted in movement and sound.

Friends, families, and strangers alike began talking, even shouting at each other over what they just saw. Hands, fingers, tentacles and everything in between flew into the air as people tried to make or reiterate points. Almost nobody, even the shopkeepers, seemed to have commerce on their mind. For the first time in two decades, they had seen an actual Jedi in action, there was little else to do _except_ talk about it!

Han couldn't help but shake his head a bit. Surely they all knew that their conversations wouldn't last long? After a stunt like that, the Empire was bound to send in the troops to keep things quiet. Imperial Law Enforcement would be in full damage control now… apart from scrambling a manhunt for a certain Jedi.

And perhaps that was the point of the sudden, frenzied conversations, everyone wanted to say their piece before law and order shut them up. Obi-wan had wanted them talking, and wanted them making decisions and for the moment it seemed like he'd succeeded. There was even a mass crowd surrounding the fake weapons stand now; no doubt people about to be disappointed that they couldn't get their hands on the real thing.

Finally Han glanced over to Leia, looking for her input. But she merely shook her head in disbelief at the whole thing.

"I… I'll kill him." She finally said.

"Let's hope you get the chance," Han said. "If I'm not mistaken, Imperial Propaganda is located in the old Jedi Temple, Obi-wan is going to have a hell of a time getting out of there."

"No," Leia said. "Don't you see? He never wanted me to come here because of the risks. When he finally relented and further saw reason to stay behind… it was just a ruse. He did all of this at this time to make sure that we wouldn't be caught."

"By riling up Imperial Security around the planet? They're going to be at maximum alert right now!"

"Maximum alert looking for _him_," Leia said. "He just turned himself into a lightning rod. No one is going to notice us coming and going so long as we don't have a beard and a jedi cloak."

"So you're saying we shouldn't try to bail him out of this," Han furrowed his brows.

Leia sighed, "I suppose I am. We need to make our rendezvous with Luke. Otherwise Obi-wan's diversion will be in vain."

"Alright," Han scratched the back of his head, still trying to come to grips with how crazy his Jedi friend was. "Lead the way sister."

"Don't call me sister," Leia said.


	2. Tarkin

It never failed to happen after a meeting. The whispers. Oh, they all went into the meeting and most often left it proclaiming their fondness for each other and unshakable loyalty to the Empire, but for as many of them that exited with cordial parting words, an equal amount spoke to one another in hushed tones and looked about with sidelong glances.

This was to be expected for any meeting of the Moffs… even more so during their annual conference; or, as many less dignified of their kind referred to it, the 'Mofference'. Those kind usually had many quiet murmurs follow them out of the meeting.

And never in all of his years of service, did Wilhuff Tarkin imagine that those utterances would be about him. He certainly hadn't expected that they would still be happening more than two years after the… incident.

And yet, as he walked out of the conference, with as brisk a pace as he could muster, with his head held high, he couldn't help but grind his teeth as he heard the other Moffs speaking of him. Mocking his fall from grace as though any one of them could have done better in his situation.

More than once, on the way out, he felt the necessity of rebuking them, of telling them the well memorized facts of the Death Stars destruction. He longed to pound into them the statistics he'd etched into his mind.

The exhaust port was only 2 meters across, well below the targeting parameters of any computer or droid. The rebel force included less than twenty snub fighters and nearly every single one of them was destroyed even though the station had been designed to repel a large scale attack. Lord Vader himself hadn't been able to prevent it even from his personal TIE fighter. The actual odds of successfully hitting the target in a fast moving fighter had been 3,720 to one.

He had run simulation after simulation in the months that followed the attack and not one, not a single _damned_ one of them managed to make that shot.

In spite of the overwhelming statistical evidence that it wasn't his fault, and all the proof he could use to berate his fellows, Moff Tarkin held his breath. While he longed to reprove the other Moffs, he knew that to do so would not only be something beneath his dignity, it would only further demonstrate weakness. They needed to see that he was unfazed by their behavior, and they needed to see how a true official of the Empire carried himself.

In time he would recover his status and all of those that now mocked him under their breaths would pay him the respect he was due or they would suffer the consequences. Some would do both.

One of his aides approached rapidly from behind, huffing and puffing as he went. Tarkin turned to see what all the fuss was about but then he noticed the other Moffs had stopped whispering and either consulted their aides as well or stared intently at their datapad screens. Tarkin's aide handed him a pad and clicked on it on.

The appearance of Obi-wan Kenobi, the real one, very obviously on the set of the vids meant to discredit him, initially shocked the Moff. As the Jedi spoke a wave of anger swept over Tarkin, particularly when the destruction of the Death Star was brought up. And yet, when finally the Jedi was finished, something new happened to the imperial official. A feeling so overwhelming that it was all he could do to keep from smiling.

His return to power would begin today with the capture of Kenobi.

Even as he stepped away from the other moffs, with his aide trailing him, asking for instructions, Tarkin started formulating a plan. No doubt the Imperial Center security force was dealing with the brunt of the effort to capture Kenobi, but as the Moff over the sector, Tarkin had more than enough jurisdiction to take this on personally.

He of course had warned them that they shouldn't have been broadcasting the fake Kenobi vids in the first place. Not only because it was bound to have provoked a response just like this, but also for more personal and practical reasons.

Such obviously fabricated propaganda came with the underlying message that the Empire had to prove its moral superiority by denigrating its enemies. It was the very antithesis of Tarkin's philosophy of ruling through the fear. After all, a parent did not receive his authority to correct a child by convincing the child that other parents were worse. No, that sort of authority was earned by having superior wisdom and power. So too was the Empire and its subjects.

Amidst all these thoughts and musings, Tarkin continued to plan his capture of Kenobi. By the time the lift reached his office, he had already received updates on the hunt for the Jedi and was issuing orders on blocking any possible escape routes. He'd secured all the landing platforms around the old Jedi Temple, he'd stationed squads at every entry and exit point, including all the secret passages the Jedi had used when the Emperor had first announced the New Order.

Just before he reached his office, Tarkin halted, his aide's caught up to him. One informing him that they still couldn't reach Lord Vader, who was off system anyway; the other held a holo-receiver up in front of him as it displayed a mustachioed imperial officer.

"Moff Tarkin," the officer saluted. "I have called you on a secure line as requested."

"Very good Captain Pellaeon," Tarkin said. "You saw the transmission?"

"Just the tail end of it sir," Pellaeon said. "We don't watch the prop-vids on duty."

"It doesn't matter," Tarkin said. "You know the situation and that will be enough. How far away is the _Chimaera_?"

"Not far sir," Pelleaon said. "We can be at Imperial Center within the hour."

"I want you here as soon as possible Captain," Tarkin said. "That Kenobi planned this stunt now is no accident. Somehow he must have known there would be no Star Destroyers in the home system today. I want every outbound freighter, ship, or scow searched for the Jedi and I know all too well that planetary forces won't be up to scratch."

"As I said sir," Pellaeon said. "Within the hour."

"Very good Captain, contact me as soon as you arrive."

The captain saluted again and the image flickered out. Tarkin nodded to himself with slight satisfaction. His sources had been quite correct to identify Pellaeon as a superbly competent officer. When the title of Grand Moff was restored to him, Tarkin would personally see to it that the captain was promoted and on his task force to destroy the Rebellion.

Victory would be swift, made all the more assured with Kenobi's assured capture. And then, by the next 'Mofference' those other fools would regret their taunts and slights.

And so Tarkin entered his office, fully prepared to take complete command of the manhunt. What he was not prepared for, when he entered, were the crimson cloaked Royal Guardsmen standing on either side of his desk.

Tarkin paused a step then continued toward the desk, where his own chair sat facing away, its occupant no doubt surveying the commanding view that it provided. The Imperial Moff stopped a few feet from the desk and then pulled himself into a bow. The Royal Guards did not move or even seem to notice him.

"My Lord," he said, doing his best to keep the surprise and fear from his voice. "You honor me with your presence."

"No," a voice not belonging to the Emperor said and the chair swiveled around. "He doesn't."

Tarkin's passive and calm look vanished as quickly as it took him to straighten up. The cloaked and hooded Emperor did not sit in his seat, but rather Ars Dangor, one of the Emperor's preferred advisors.

Dangor smirked at Tarkin from underneath his long, thin, oily mustache. In front of all the Moffs, Tarkin had maintained the stiffest of upper lips, not betraying any of his true feelings. But in front of this robe clad sycophant he did not even try to hold back the sneer at his mouth.

"You're sitting in my chair," Tarkin took another step forward, but at this the guardsmen started and jabbed their forcepikes in his direction. The Moff, moved back, still glaring at the imperial official sitting behind his desk.

"Are you certain it's your chair _Moff_ Tarkin?" Dangor said his voice seeming slightly too high for the slim body he had. "You of all people know how fleeting positions can be."

With perhaps the greatest effort he could muster, Tarkin straightened his face and adopted a suitably respectful tone. "If your Excellency doesn't mind I would like to have my office back, in case you didn't know, there's a Jedi on the loose and I am organizing our forces to capture him."

"Ah… this will be an awkward discussion…" Dangor said as though embarrassed but the glint in his eye betrayed his true feeling. "You see, the hunt for Kenobi will be conducted by planetary security. It's a question of jurisdiction really."

"I beg your pardon?" Tarkin felt his brows furrow. "A matter of jurisdiction!? I am Moff of Imperial Center! This most certainly does fall under my authority!"

"Mmmm, no, I'm afraid not," Dangor stood, straightening his violet robes. "The capture of a wanted criminal is a matter of law enforcement. This is not a military matter."

"Kenobi is a _war_ criminal," Tarkin took a step forward but halted when the guards shifted. "His capture absolutely falls within my power. I already have a Star Destroyer in bound!"

"Yes the _Chimaera_…" Dangor examined his nails then stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the city. His two guards flanked him and Tarkin followed, shocked and enraged that somehow the meddling bureaucrat had found out about Pellaeon. "…I'm afraid it has been rerouted to one of the surrounding systems in case Kenobi attempts to make a short hyperspace jump before going back to whatever hole the Rebels are hiding him in."

"_Now_ who is acting outside his jurisdiction!?" Tarkin stepped up just behind Dangor, who nodded to his guards and allowed Tarkin to step alongside him on the side of the balcony. "You have no authority to give orders to officers of the imperial navy!"

"Oh, that order didn't come from me," Dangor said, looking as though he was holding back laughter. "That came from the Emperor himself."

"W…what?"

"You see _Moff_ Tarkin what this is about, what this is really about, is that fact that the Emperor simply doesn't put much stock in your ability to bring in Kenobi."

The words came like a blow to Tarkin's mind. Yes, he knew he failed the Emperor with the events at Yavin. And knew he was lucky to be alive, let alone still have a position in the Empire. But he never imagined the Emperor's ire would reach this far and last this long.

"There was nothing I could have done more to prevent the destruction of the Death Star," Tarkin insisted. "I can show you the simulations if you don't believe me!"

"Oh this isn't about the destruction of your precious laser moon," Dangor said then paused before going on. "Well, actually it is… but more than that. Even before the battle, you let Kenobi run amok on that station for hours, culminating in him nearly killing Lord Vader and facilitating the escape of Princess Leia herself. How many soldiers did you have at your disposal Moff Tarkin? And yet you could not catch one Jedi and his kid sidekicks. You can see why the Emperor does not trust you now."

"If this is how his Majesty feels then why has he not conveyed this sentiment to me personally."

"You think the Emperor would lower himself to speak directly to a lowly Moff?" Dangor said. "That he sent me to tell you this is actually something of a chastisement _I'm_ receiving. He didn't much care for the last pun I made at court you see."

"You will not be able to capture Kenobi without me," Tarkin said. "Even now my planetary forces are closing in on him! I have put my most elite squads on his trail. It is only a matter of time before he falls into my grasp!"

Even as the words left his mouth, the air erupted in blaster fire. An explosion boomed in their ears as a small airspeeder burst into flames and careened right at them. Both Tarkin managed to jump out of the way even as the Royal Guards yanked Dangor to safety. Just before the speeder smashed into Tarkin's office, a figure leapt from it, landing on the rails of the balcony with inhuman speed and balance.

Tarkin shook as he pulled himself up. Only to freeze when he spotted the glowing blade of a lightsaber held in the hands of the cloaked figure, standing with his back turned to them. No sooner did he realize who it was than did several elite stormtroopers, held aloft by jet packs, rush after the Jedi. Without care as to whether or not they hit Tarkin or Dangor, they opened fire on Kenobi.

With a flash of his blade, Kenobi batted the blaster bolts harmlessly away. Or at the very least harmlessly to himself. Most of the bolts were sent right back to the stormtroopers that fired them, knocking them out of the air like flies hitting an electric field.

By the time Kenobi finished off the last stormtrooper, Dangor's Royal Guards came at him from behind; rushing him with their Force-pikes. He merely extended a hand and the pair of them were flung away, hitting the remaining walls of Tarkin's office hard. That done, the Jedi seemed to notice Tarkin and Dangor for the first time.

"Governor Tarkin," Kenobi smiled almost as though seeing a very old friend. "Now this is a surprise! Of all the balconies your men could have forced me to crash into… I was just thinking about you as I escaped!"

Kenobi stepped off the rails and onto the balcony proper, casting glance at Dangor. The bureaucrat flopped and dragged himself away in terror, even flinging up his arms in front of him as though it would do any good.

"Don't kill me!" he squealed then jabbed a finger at Tarkin. "It's _him_ you want! He's the one that blew up Alderaan!"

"Yes," Obi-wan's eyes narrowed a bit. "He most certainly did."

For Tarkin's part he merely stood up a little straighter, especially after the accusations. He knew for a fact that there was nothing either he nor Dangor could do should Kenobi wish to extract vengeance. If Kenobi attacked, Tarkin would at the very least meet his end with dignity.

"It was a valid military target and a hotbed for the Rebellion," Tarkin said. "I apologize for nothing."

"And fortunately for you," Obi-wan extinguished his lightsaber. "I have much more important things to do than to deal with your genocide. But be advised Moff Tarkin, one day you will stand trial for your crimes."

"Hollow words from a man that speaks without any legitimate authority," Tarkin said.

"Between then and now however," Kenobi ignored his retort. "I shall content myself with continuing to do what I've been doing… making you Palpatine's least favorite officer. I dare say he will blame you for my escape today."

Before Tarkin could respond, Kenobi clicked his lightsaber to his belt and set off in an unhurried fashion through the battered office and into the lift. Dangor flinched and shuddered as Kenobi past by him but made no moves to stop him either.

The moment the lift closed, Tarkin rushed into the office and hit his personal communicator; Intent on alerting security to head Kenobi off at the exits. He found instead that he couldn't. Not only had the crash knocked out power to the room, the electrostatic from the speeder's remains worked to scramble his comm-link.

"T..This is your fault!" Dangor said as his guardsmen, now recovered, pulled him to his feet. "If you had done your job Kenobi would never have even gotten on the planet! The Emperor will hear of this!"

Tarkin didn't respond. He just stood by the broken husk of his desk and watched as Dangor and his men exited through the same lift Kenobi had used. He stood and did nothing as the fire suppression droids arrived and blasted the smoldering wreckage with a foul smelling but fire retardant goop. He stood and mulled over Kenobi's words through pursed lips.

And then, not for the first time, he wondered, however fleetingly, if it would not have been better if he hadn't escaped the Death Star before it blew.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviewer Responses:<strong>

**Louie Pastiche**

Not going to lie. If I reference an old Marvel Star Wars comic, it was completely by accident. I've only read a handful of them. All the times Luke and Leia kiss is kind of creepy. But I'm glad you enjoyed the opening! Thanks for reading!

**Carycomic**

This is a new ongoing. It won't be anywhere near as long as my last one. Probably about five chapters (I hope). It's sort of a prequel to the eventual sequel to Lost Knight. I just wanted to have some more fun with the set up of that story so this happened. Thank you so much for reading!

**Quathis**

Obi-wan spent almost twenty years as a Jedi-sicle, a little bit of recklessness is due. You'll get the answers to Luke's situation as well as many others soon! Thanks for reading!

**ErinKenobi2893**

I'm not saying that Obi-wan is Batman, but I'm not not saying it either. So glad you liked the opening, thanks for reading!

**MaveriKat**

The next installment will let you know exactly what happened with Han and the Hutt. And yeah, the Emperor is not pleased with the days events. Thanks for reading!


	3. Solo

"Hurry up Golden Rod you're going to make us late!"

"Oh no! Captain So… that is Jarod I'm not designed for haste! If you'll just leave me behind I will eventually catch up!"

"Oh no," Han said. "You're not wandering off here. Not right now."

"Wandering off! I will have you know that I do not make it a habit of wandering off!"

Chewie barked a disagreement.

"Isis was an isolated incident!" Threepio protested. "And other times that I may appear to be absent I can assure you that I am merely following after Artoo! He's the one you should be chastising."

R2 merely warbled out some annoyed sounds at Threepio and then tossed in a frustrated raspberry for good measure. Threepio threw his hands in the air and shook his head.

"Found me in a what? I say Artoo! That's utter falsehood! You would never find me in such an establishment!"

Han did his best to drown the bickering droids out and instead focused in on Leia. She walked as fast as her feet would allow her to in the crowded thoroughfare, her brows knit together in frustration and worry. He had to admit, even without saying anything he shared a lot of her concern. The Empire could be coming down on this place at any time, and no doubt Obi-wan was in a race for his life at the moment. And of course to top it off, they still had to rendezvous with Luke. Assuming the kid actually made the appointment.

"Dammit," Leia muttered under her breath as she nearly tripped over a crossing Sullustian. She managed another few steps before she nearly ran straight into a gang of Twi'lek boys. They were entering the most crowded portion of the market, made even more so by the fact that virtually nobody was shopping but instead trading opinions of the vid they'd just seen with Obi-wan.

"I can't make it more than three steps without someone crowding me!" Leia grumbled.

"Probably because you're five foot nothing," Han shrugged.

"Do you really think that now is the time for jokes?" Leia glared back at him before almost tripping over a Dugg.

"No," Han said. "But that's sort of the point sweetheart. Besides, I can fix it."

"Fix.."

"Chewie?" Han glanced back at his furry companion only a step behind them.

The wookiee's shaggy face wore a look of delight face as he lumbered up in front of both Han and Leia with one easy stride. A couple of Iridonians almost got in his way but at this point Chewie just stopped moving and let out an ear splitting roar.

Instantly sentients fell over each other to clear a path for him, a path that Leia and Han found more than easy to trail behind. Any other time and Leia would have hated attracting this kind of attention but their schedule had grown thin and a distance that would have taken them much longer to cross, was suddenly traversed in minutes.

Once they finally reached the meeting place, a small stand vending moisture vaporators, Leia took a quick look around before casually patting the wookiee on the arm.

"Thanks Chewie," she muttered, not looking up at him but instead casting her eyes around the market.

"This is it," Han pretended to interested in the vaporators before glancing over his shoulder at Leia. "So where's the kid?"

"I… I don't know," Leia frowned and her eyes shot to her chrono. "We're a bit late but he should be here."

"You don't think that he got spooked after seeing Obi-wan's little performance?"

Leia shook her head. "You know Luke. He may be distrustful and erratic, but he's no coward. He wouldn't stand us up just because he saw a Jedi he doesn't trust."

Han nodded and glanced into the crowd, hoping to spot the guy they were looking for, or even his companions Winter and Cody. They were pretty much a package deal. Half the reason he wanted this to be a success was so he could get Winter back to Biggs so the flyboy could finally shut up about missing her.

Still, they did not show up after a few more moments, R2 and Threepio even managed to catch up without Luke or the others coming out of the crowd to meet them. They tried to busy themselves by looking at other stalls near the vaporators but neither of them could shake the tension in the air. Han wasn't the least bit Force-Sensitive but he knew when things weren't going to plan.

"I got a bad feeling about this," he glanced at R2 who still had their weapons stowed inside his rusty innards.

"Me too," Leia said.

"What about…" Han looked over both of his shoulders before dropping his voice to a near whisper. "… What about your Jedi thing? Can't you… sense him or something?"

Leia shook her head. "If there were less people, maybe. As it is, the Force is just a lot of buzzing noise to me right now. Not to say I haven't been trying."

Leia wrinkled her brow for a moment in concentration but gave it up moments later, taking in a couple of deep breaths to center herself again. Han just sighed and looked over the crowd.

"I hate to be the guy to say it but things like this would probably be easier if you actually did some of that Jedi training Obi-wan keeps trying to get you to do," Han muttered.

Leia cast him a look as if to question the entire statement based on the messenger, but in the end she just shook her head. "It's not that I don't want to train, but I don't exactly have a lot of free time to do it with. You know how busy the Alliance keeps me."

"Yeah," Han's brows furrowed a bit. "I do. The Alliance keeps you so busy you don't have time for Jedi training… or anything else."

"It's important Han."

"The Alliance will still be there if you and me go off and have a bit of fun," He suddenly recovered his rakish grin. "Hell, I know some places here on Coruscant that…"

"I'm pretty sure that what you and I find 'fun' are completely different things," Leia said. "And I thought we were talking about my training."

"Well…" Han said and eased a bit closer to her. "It will still be there too."

"Oh," Leia quirked a brow. "And I'm sure Master Kenobi will be just fine with us having _your_ kind of fun."

"He doesn't have to know," Han shrugged. "He's good with secrets. Hell, you'd probably actually be able to get some solid training under your belt if he didn't insist on keeping the whole thing under wraps. If you actually told the Alliance-"

"No," Leia said and cast her eyes around as though afraid someone was listening. "They can't know. Not yet, Obi-wan is quite clear on that."

"Just saying it would help," Han shrugged. "But since we're on the subject , neither of you ever really explained to me why."

"You need to look at it from Obi-wan's perspective," Leia said. "For him, the end of the Clone Wars and Order 66 happened only a few years ago. He was betrayed by Darth Vader and watched just about everybody he knew die, then the Senate allowed Palpatine become the Emperor. He wants to play things close to the vest now."

"Yeah, I bet he's great at Sabaac," Han rolled his eyes but deep down, he had to admit that the Jedi probably was right.

"Maybe when Echo Base is finished next month and we all get settled in I can…"

Leia trailed off and her eyes widened and she suddenly looked around them, her fingers tightening into fists. Han immediately stepped closer and grabbed her arm. If the last couple of years had taught him anything it was that when she got that look, trouble was nearby.

"What it is it?" he scanned the crowd. "Is it Luke?"

"No," she shook her head. "But we're in danger…"

"Chewie," Han called over to the next booth where the Wookiee was examining some tools. "Double back, look for anything suspicious."

Chewie grunted and then set off into the crowd.

"Where are the droids?" Leia said and Han noticed for the first time in a while that neither Threepio and more importantly R2 were there.

"Threepio probably ran off again," Han said. "And Artoo went looking for him, taking our weapons with him."

"We'll deal with that later," Leia said. "Right now we need to get…"

She started moving a half second after trailing off. From out of the crowd a Falleen burst forward bearing a nasty looking vibroblade. Reacting with almost Jedi-like reflexes, Leia grabbed one of the nearby vaporator parts and sent it sailing into their would-be assailants face. The alien fell back only to have three more emerge from the crowd.

Han snapped into action, just as the crowd began to scatter around them. Nobody wanted to be in the middle of a fight with Falleen mercenaries involved. One of them leapt over his fallen comrade and made a b-line straight for the Princess. Leia fumbled for another vaporator part but she didn't need to. So focused was the attacker on his prize that he didn't even seen Han until the smuggler's fist broke his jaw.

"Leia!" Han grabbed her hand, trying not to wince at the fact that it was the one he'd just used to deck the mercenary. "Run!"

The pair broke into a run, hands clutched together. Leia turned over a cart in their way, doing what she could to impede the progress of the other two pursuing them. They weaved in and out of the crowd even going through stalls and booths. But the Falleen managed to stay on their tail.

Han kept glancing around. There had been plenty of security drones hovering about mere moments ago but for the life of him he couldn't spot a single one now. That was a bad sign. It meant that someone in the Empire had been paid off to look the other way. That kind of bribery didn't come cheap.

What he didn't get was why they were after them. If they were stormtroopers then he just would have assumed that their disguises hadn't worked as well as they hoped. But they were clearly hired guns. How would they have known to come here looking for them? Luke would never have ratted them out. Sure, the kid had been on the wrong side before but he got better. In the end there was only one real conclusion he could draw.

In spite of Obi-wan negotiating the payment of his debt with Jabba; the Hutt must have decided to collect the bounty on Han's head anyway. Only Jabba had the resources to get a group of armed mercs onto Coruscant to attempt something like this.

Up ahead of them, the crowd parted yet again and another trio of mercs emerged. More Falleen. Han, leading the way, jerked both Leia and himself into a stall of Derallian golden fruit. Leia made the jump over the fruit display just fine, but Han's foot caught the edge and he tumbled down, bringing Leia with him. Even as they were getting up, the mercs were nearly on them. There was no choice but to fight again.

The two Falleen from before had learned their mistake. One went for Leia and the other went for Han. Leia, surprising even her smuggler escort, struck out at the one coming for him with a vicious blow to the chin and Han followed suit, blocking a swinging blade by slamming his wrist against his attacker's and then delivering a right cross.

"We have to even the odds," Han said as the new trio advanced with their weapons. Leia wrested the dagger from one of the fallen merc's hands and held it like she was grasping a lightsaber. Han tried to go for another one of the daggers but the mercs rushed them.

In the flurry of fists, arms, and knives, Han lost track of everything except keeping from getting his throat slit. In spite of this, he tried to snatch a glance of Leia, only for one of the Falleen to get a grip on his vest. Han reared back as the Falleen pushed forward sending them crashing into a nearby booth behind them.

Landing in a clutter of arms, legs, and debris, Han still managed to kick the merc backward before rolling over and seeing piles of blasters all around them. They'd stumbled into the stall of fake blasters Threepio had been looking at earlier. Now, if only one of them were an actual blaster he'd be in good shape.

The sudden rush metal slicing through air was all the warning Han had of the next attack. Reacting purely on instinct he snatched up one of the fake blasters and blunted the dagger's force before it could split his head open. Kicking out, Han tripped the Falleen assailing him and rolled over. Then, his hand landed in a pile of weapons and he latched onto the only thing there that would actually help him.

The mercenaries going for him had managed to get up, even as he stood and brandished the vibrowhip he'd grabbed. Giving it a crack, Han was forced to reel back when the weapon nearly sliced his mouth open. He'd never been much good with these things. But it forced the mercs to keep their distance and finally gave Han the chance he needed to figure out what was going on.

He very much didn't like what he saw.

The mercs coming after him had their knives at the ready, holding them in various positions designed to best slice him open. The mercs going after Leia however either didn't have their knives drawn or only held them in defensive positions. That meant two things. They only wanted to kill him and they very much wanted to take Leia.

Han opened his mouth to warn her but before he could get a word out the mercs attacked in unison this time. The former smuggler snapped his whip furiously, only barely managing to keep it from taking off his own head. The mercs took advantage of ineptitude with the weapon and slinked around his wild flailing, intent on gutting him once and for all.

It might have worked if they hadn't been so focused on him that they didn't hear the angry hoots and whistles coming from the crowd. Moments before they reached Han, a black splurt of oil crossed their paths and the mercs toppled over their own feet. One tried to get up, only to receive a nasty shock to the face by a fiercely loyal R2 unit. Han didn't hesitate. Just as quickly as they started to get up, he kicked at their heads and delivered a thunderous backhand to the one Falleen that had managed to stumble to his knees.

"Good work Artoo!" Han said and then made for Leia's position, only to be stopped when the crowd around him parted and a new Falleen merc arrived, one far larger than all the rest. In his hands he gripped a two handed vibrosword which he swung with the deft ease of an expert showing off.

Han had had just about enough of this. His hands ached from punching and it was only a matter of time before he hurt himself with the whip. Instead of engaging the Falleen, he merely held out his hand in R2's direction and a second later felt the all too reassuring weight of his blaster.

With an almost lazy gesture he took aim at the remaining merc and started to squeeze the trigger… only to pause when the merc was yanked off of his feet and shaken like a ragdoll from behind by a seven foot enraged wookiee.

As large as the Falleen was, Chewie easily dwarfed him as he shook him until he dropped the sword. Then, with a disgusted grunt, Chewie hurled the Falleen across the thoroughfare, where he landed in a fruit stand. Han grinned and patted his friend on the shoulder but the wookiee glanced around and barked a few concerned sentences.

"What do you _mean_ where's Leia?" Han said, moving to the other side of his wookiee companion to get a look at where Leia last position. Instead, he just saw a bunch of nervous market patrons and a discarded vibroblade lying on the ground. Han gripped his blaster tighter and let out a sigh.

"See, this is why I had a bad feeling," he shook his head.

"Captain Solo! Captain Solo!" probably the last voice he wanted to hear at the moment came through the crowd and C-3PO finally arrived. "I must warn you! The market is crawling with Falleen Mercenaries! We are in grave danger!"

"Now kidding," Han said then gestured to Chewie, who went a picked the merc up out of the fruit stand and threw him over his shoulder.

"Threepio," Han said. "You and Artoo wait by the vaporator stand in case Luke actually shows. Have Artoo scan for Leia, they can't have gotten far."

"Can't have gotten far!?" Threepio said. "You mean they have the Princess?"

"Not for long," Han said as he and Chewie started back the way they came.

"But… but where are you going?"

Han glanced at the Falleen then looked to the droid. "We're getting answers. Won't take long. Try to have a fix on her location by the time we get back."

"…When you come back?" Threepio said. "What if _they_ come back?"

"Try using those fake blasters you were so fixed on earlier."

"Oh dear oh dear…"

* * *

><p>It didn't take long to get to the airspeeder. It took even less time to climb it all the way to the top of one of the many skyscrapers Coruscant was famous for. And finally, it took no time at all for Chewie to clutch the merc by the ankle and dangle him over the edge of that building, waking him up with a loud wookiee roar.<p>

The Falleen gasped and flailed his arms about before finally throwing them in front of his face.

"Trust me pal," Han said, easing the speeder so he was right next to the merc. "From up here, putting your hands in front of your face isn't going to give you much of a cushion."

"You have no right to do this! I demand you release me!" the merc hissed out.

"Listen…" Han placed the speeder in 'idle' and stood up, leaning on his knee so he could look the Falleen eye to eye. "…We can do this two ways. Chewie and I can play the good cop bad cop game with you, drop you a few stories. Or you can just save us all the trouble and tell me where you took the girl and why Jabba still has a bounty on me. He was paid in full and then some."

Then, to Han's complete surprise, the merc just blinked at him before breaking out in a fit of laughter loud enough to echo off the walls of the building he was suspended from.

"Y… you?" the merc said through chortles. "You thought this was about you? Do you really think that Jabba the Hutt would be so desperate to catch some low life rebel body guard that he would finance a squad of mercs to catch him? On _Imperial Center_ of all places? That's just dumb, even for a human."

Han didn't reply, instead he just nodded at Chewie, who let the Falleen slip from his grasp. The merc's hands went over his face again as he started screaming. Taking a deep breath, Han sat himself back in the seat of the airspeeder and kicked it into high gear. Even as the merc plummeted downward, Han pulled the speeder into a sharp dive. The unfortunate merc may have hit terminal velocity but Han had the advantage of high powered repulsor jets.

Only a few meters from hitting a line of sky traffic, Han swerved the speeder beneath the merc, who hit the speeder's hood with a resounding thud. The merc blasted the air out of his lungs and then frantically clawed at the hood of the vehicle to keep from slipping off.

Han put the speeder into reverse and slowly started pulling up into an incline.

"See, now I'm just embarrassed for you," Han said as the merc struggled to maintain his grip. "I mean is this your first time being interrogated? Sure the Empire might just shoot you with truth serum and mind probes, but you're clearly part of a criminal organization. How could you have not known that something like this would happen if you got snippy with me?"

"You're a madman!" the merc cried as his clawed fingers scratched at the metal of the speeder. "You're attempting to kill a man in broad daylight! The Empire will be swarming here in no time!"

Han merely inclined the speeder a few more degrees.

"Somehow I think the Empire is going to be a little busy right now. There's a Jedi on the loose you know. Besides, my partner is on that building shooting any probe droids that might get close enough to record this. It's just you and me out here pal."

"I… if you kill me you'll have no other way of finding your companion!" the Falleen yelled as the rushing draft from a large supply speeder below nearly blew him off the hood he so desperately clung to.

"We left an entire pile of you guys back at the market," Han said. "If you don't talk, one of them will!"

"I'm a member of the Black Sun! We're the most powerful criminal organization on Coruscant! We'll hunt you down!"

"The Black Sun?" Han pulling the speeder into almost a full incline. The merc's legs flailed as he slipped down the speeder. "Tell me where you took the girl!"

"1313!" the merc shouted. "There's an old abandoned shop on level 1313! We were told to bring her there!"

"Why?"

"I don't know! Boss just said take her there for pick up! Inside job, not the Empire!"

"What does the Black Sun want with her?"

"I don't know! Pull me up!"

Han glared at the merc. Years of playing at the Sabaac table gave him all the experience he needed to know when someone was lying. This guy was tapped out. If he knew anything else he'd have spilled it by now. With a jerk on the clutch, Han put the speeder into the forward position and leveled out long enough for the merc to reestablish his grip.

The moment he did, Han throttled up as far as he could. The merc toppled over the front of the speeder and landed in a heap in the back seat. Certain the captive was secure, Han continued ascending until he reached the landing Chewie was on.

"Bad news Chewie," Han said. "It's not Jabba… yes, that's bad news! We're dealing with the Black Sun now… and they want her for some reason."

Chewie let out a nervous grunt as he lowered his lanky limbs into the passenger seat. Han could only nod, noticing out of the rearview display that the merc was getting up. He really hoped this guy wasn't as dumb as he'd shown himself to be.

"It gets better Chewie," Han said, pulling away from the building. "They've taken her to level 1313. No Chewie it's not haunted!"

The wookiee protested and began shaking his fists with each howl and bark that came out of his mouth.

"Chewie, you know we're going after her! We're dealing with one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the Galaxy and you're talking about the Boogey Man. Besides…"

The merc, must have thought that their heated argument was a suitable distraction. With barely a hiss he snapped at Han with his claws, only to get hit by a blaster bolt at point blank range. He didn't even have time to scream as his body plummeted off the side of the speeder and Han tossed his blaster in the compartment between their seats.

"…Besides, you know what a cautious fellow I am."

* * *

><p>Reviewer Responses:<p>

**Kathryn Renee**

Hopefully this can tide you over for a while. Sorry this took me so long. I'm very flattered that you're so interested in this story. Thanks for reading!

**Son of Whitebeard**

He's not a hero, he's something more.

**Mike3207**

Actually the reason why the Emperor's Hand and not Vader will be going after Obi-wan has already been given in a previous chapter, but it will be elaborated on if coming updates. Thanks for reading!

**Louie Pastiche**

I'm a pretty big Star Wars geek but I would be lost without Wookieepedia, someday I'll probably lament the amount of time I've spent reading articles about lightsabers and clone troopers, but that day is not today. Your pick for Dangor seems suitably apt. Thanks for reading!

**ErinKenobi2893**

Yeah, I know you weren't thinking of Batman. I was just being silly. Glad you liked the Tarkin/Obi-wan confrontation! Thanks for reading!

**Hurricane Jackson**

The answers to your questions are pending! Thanks for reading!

**mouse**

There are plenty of tails for Obi-wan to kick! Thanks for reading!

**Emperor Andross**

Glad you liked the broadcast, you certainly liked it better than the Emperor and Vader did! Thanks for reading!

**DarkLeia**

What's even more awesomely funny is that I didn't come up with the word "Mofference" That's an actual thing from a Star Wars book! Glad you're liking the story!

**The Sidhe**

Tarkin, spice mines of Kessel. Just saying. Thanks for reading!

**Legionary Prime**

Happy to be continuing it! Thanks for reading!

**Quathis**

Yeah, Tarkin isn't exactly easy to have sympathy for, but he supplies another perspective, also it's fun to see Obi-wan actually make his life worse! So glad you liked this! Thanks for reading!


	4. CC-2224

79's Lounge was seeing something of a resurgence.

During the height of the Clone Wars it had been one of the most frequented watering holes in all of Coruscant. This was due, in no small part to its relative location to the Grand Army of the Republic's primary staging grounds and military bases. By the war's end it had gained the reputation, dubious in some eyes, distinct in others… of being the 'Clone Bar.'

In fact during those days the owners estimated that close to ninety percent of their customers were Clone soldiers enjoying their shore leave. They saw every kind of clone there; from the 'Shinies' fresh from Kamino, getting their first taste of the Galaxy, to the hardened Arc Troopers that first saw combat on Genosis and had the battle scars to prove it.

They were good times. Like all soldiers, clones tended to get a little rowdy and very boisterous when they got some liquor in them. However, the owners found it to be a rare occasion that they actually had to call any sort of security, or even go out of their way to break up a scuffle. The clone's training saw to it that things rarely got too out of hand. Even better, the Republic picked up their tab.

The clones got to blow off steam. The credit accounts were full every night. And the owners could go to sleep happy that they'd found a way to make a good life during the war.

But naturally, it didn't last. Business didn't just sour over night of course. With the end of the war most the clone troopers remained in service, now as Imperial Stormtroopers. As before, they continued to frequent the bar. But something had changed in their demeanor, like a switch had been pulled in their brains. Instead of swapping stories of saving cities or worlds from armies of 'clankers' they spun tales of crushing resistance and whispered amongst themselves about their new generals.

Slowly but surely, more and more clones were taken out of service. In their place came the recruits. Young men from thousands of worlds recruited to take the place of the clones. They were different. When they got drunk, they broke things. Chairs, tables, bones, it didn't matter. Unaccustomed to that level of disrespect, the owners tried to put a stop to it expecting the same results they got with the clones.

A bartender, a waitress, and the co-owner were sent to the hospital later that evening.

On top of that, business began to decline. The bar was the 'Clone Bar' after all. And the newly recruited stormtroopers held little regard for anything the clones touched. After the first couple of years, they began finding their own dives and business dwindled to the few regulars and the occasional clone trooper still in service.

Bar stools gathered dust, lights burned out and weren't replaced, and the oven periodically exploded. More than once the owners considered cutting their losses. Outwardly they claimed they stayed open out of love for the few clones that still came in, but amongst themselves they admitted it was because no one wanted to buy the 'Clone Bar.'

All of that changed on the eve of the twentieth annual Empire Day.

Even though, or perhaps, because the Empire had suffered a humiliating defeat the year before with the destruction of the Death Star, the government had determined to mark the two decade anniversary of the end of the Clone Wars and the birth of the Empire with even more pomp and dazzle than ever before! During the entire week of the holiday, military parades marched through the streets, Dignitaries gave out speeches praising the Emperor, and more food and wine was given out than many people in the Outer Rim saw in an entire year.

79's Lounge took full advantage of it.

The owners put forth their last credits to spruce up the premises and actively advertize it as a place for nostalgia, as a place where people could go and see what it was like at the founding of the Empire. They could see how much technology had advanced since that time. They could have a 'classic' drink. And they'd even get to handle some Clone Wars memorabilia while they were at it.

The gamble paid off handsomely. By the end of the week, they had quintupled their earnings and lines were forming outside the door for a chance to get a seat at the bar. It worked so well, in fact, that by the next week, a large corporation, the D'Isigny Company offered the owners a ridiculous amount of credits for full ownership. They sold immediately.

The D'Isigny Company closed the lounge for about a month before reopening it completely restored to its original Clone Wars glory. It not only offered the 'classic' drinks, but also the latest in taste as well (they'd been shocked to learn that the reason, the only, reason 'classic' drinks were offered was because the droids weren't programmed to mix any new recipes).

The changes and new options were greeted with even more enthusiasm than before. Sure, some of the old regulars complained that the buyout had 'killed' the bar. Some of them even went so far as to take to the holonet and proclaim that they would 'buy classic only'. But they quickly died down amidst the fervor for the new 79's.

And so the newly reestablished 79's Lounge finally had new drinks, new customers, and even new droids. But what it didn't have was clones.

This was partially due to the fact that most of them were dead. Those that remained had either fallen through the cracks of society or remained in service far from Coruscant. The new bar was frequented by the likes of inspired loyalist, Imperial Academy cadets, and nostalgic officers.

Like any and every establishment, 79's Lounge was abuzz this, particular day, with the earlier viewing of Obi-wan Kenobi's transmission. The cadets were particularly excited and confused, most of them having never supposed that the Obi-wan transmissions in the past had been fakes. So intense and heated were the conversations, that nobody noticed an actual genuine Jango Fett clone step into the building and taking a seat at the bar.

Of course he didn't wear his armor. He hadn't for a very long time. He could have worn his stormtrooper armor but it didn't feel right, not when coming back here. And even though he was off duty, he tried to maintain the disciplined demeanor of a clone trooper. This grew harder and harder the longer he spent in the bar itself. Everything he looked at seemed to hold a memory for him.

Apparently it was that kind of day. He certainly hadn't intended to come here when he started his day. Then again, he never imagined he would see a ghost from the past appear on the official Imperial channels and encourage open revolt against the Empire. Had he not seen Kenobi's broadcast, he may have ignored the strange message he'd received only a day before.

It had come through his personal comlink using an coded transmission not broadcast since the Clone Wars. Since the days when his life made sense.

"What will it be sir? I am programmed in the preparation of over 2 million forms of beverages! " the MixRmastR barkeep said. "Bantha Blaster? Sonic Screwdriver? It comes in blue or green!"

"Juma," the clone said.

"Non-alcoholic, alcoholic? Classic? Extra Classic? With fizz? Fire?"

"Just juma." He said at the hovering droid.

"Any mixers with that? I can add distilled tulaberry-"

"Juma. Neat." The clone glared at the droid.

"One juma, neat, coming right up sir," the droid said and set to its task.

The droid assembled his drink in less than half the time it took to order the damn thing and soon enough he was leaning with his back at to the bar, soaking in the atmosphere. He had never been one to pine after the past too much, or at least the aesthetics of it, but he had to give the bar its credit, he might as well be a new dispatched clone about to head out to the front for the first time some two decades ago. It looked that authentic; apart from the clientele at least.

There were humans of course, a few twi'leks smattered here and there and even a snivvian sitting in a corner booth. But diverse as the group was, he didn't see a single face that matched his own. That was one thing that this bar, no matter how many coats of paints they put on it, could never recreate. They would never bring back his brothers; which made him wonder, as he rolled the glass of juma between his fingers, why he bothered coming here in the first place. Did he really want to spend his last few days as a soldier thinking about days gone by when he actually felt that title meant something?

His eyes drifted over to one of the corners. A group of stormtroopers, off duty, sat playing one of the games. Just like him, they didn't wear their armor, but he recognized them for what they were without even trying. The uniform haircuts, the brutish demeanor, and the way that everyone in the bar gave them a wide berth, all spoke to their identity. They were just like all the other thugs that made up the ranks of the stormtrooper corps these days.

After a few more moments of looking around and feeling silly for having even come, he downed his drink and set it on the counter. The strange transmission must have been a practical joke from the other members of his squad. They did like to get a laugh at the 'old clone.' Nevermind the fact that at the physical age of approaching fifty, he still had the body and the training to beat them seven ways to their next shore leave. At least he liked to think so.

As he got up, one of the server droids hovered nearby and held up a tray with another juma on it.

"What's this?" he didn't even move to pick it up.

"The group in the private lounge have sent it to you with a message that 'you've come too far to just give up now'."

"They did did they?" he still didn't touch the drink. "They give you a name to go with that drink?"

"I'm afraid not, just a serial number… which is more or less the same thing I suppose," the droid said. "CC-2224."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said not even noticing as the droid pressed the drink into his hands. He ignored it and brushed past, making straight for lounge. A bounce droid stood there with its massive clamps ready to grab anybody trying to crash the party. He was about to test whether he was invited or not when a familiar voice… his own, called his name.

"Not in there Fox," Came the voice and former Clone Commander Fox turned to see former Clone Commander Cody sitting in a booth with yet another one of their brothers.

"I don't believe it," Fox said as he looked Cody over. Once upon a time the only way to tell the difference between one clone and another was the way they styled their hair or tattooed their face. Now it was plain as day they weren't the same. The man, of course, shared his face but the scars and age lines that decorated it told the story of a different life altogether.

"Oh believe it," Cody grinned and motioned for Fox to take a seat next to the other clone. Fox scrutinized him for a moment and recognized the tattoo on the man's head but couldn't quite place the name.

"I'm Kix," he said and Fox nodded. He had met Kix a number of times. Clone medic, still a good fighter.

Fox turned his attention back to Cody. "I heard you died when the Death Star blew, thought it was a damn shame. How'd you get out?"

"Took a shuttle before it went up," Cody shrugged.

Fox narrowed his eyes just a little. He didn't have enough details to really make a judgement call, but the non-committal way his fellow clone had answered, combined with the simplicity of the statement, said there was a hell of a lot more to that story than him just happening to get on a shuttle before the station exploded.

"Funny, I had heard that Tarkin gave the order for no evacuations, seemed to think there was no real danger."

"We all know how well that worked out," Kix said and took a pull on his juma.

Fox pursed his lips together and had to shrug. To his knowledge Governor Tarkin, Lord Vader, and now Cody had been the only survivors of that battle. No matter which way you looked at it, Tarkin misjudged things by more than a few parsecs.

"So it was you guys that sent me the transmission," he finally said. "If you wanted to catch up you just could have gone through the regular channels."

"But we're not here to catch up," Cody said, leaning forward just a bit. "We're here to recruit you."

"Recruit me? Maybe you've forgotten, we're already enlisted."

"No," Cody grinned a conspiratorial grin. "I mean recruit you for the other side."

Fox nearly stood up right there. His eyes shot to the off duty stormtroopers on the other side of the lounge. He couldn't believe what he had just heard! And from one of the top commanders in the old clone army! He kept waiting for Cody to say it was some sort of terrible joke but the commander just sat calmly as though he hadn't just suggested treason.

"You're with the Rebellion?" Fox finally said, dropping his voice to barely a whisper.

"No need to keep quiet mate," Kix said. "We've got an aural scrambler, nobody's listening in."

"And yeah, we're both part of the Alliance," Cody said. "We want you to join us."

"That's sedition, that's insubordination!" Fox said. "We're clone troopers! We don't switch sides!"

"See that's where you're wrong," Cody said. "Kix and I are clone troopers. You're not."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You're a stormtrooper," Cody said. "You don't have a name you have a number. It's CC-1010."

"At least until your formal discharge next week," Kix added.

"You're right, I have a number, and I'm being discharged, _and_ my name is Fox."

"Not when you're a stormtrooper," Cody said then motioned to the soldiers sitting in the booth. "See that lot? If I go over there and ask them their names, what do you suppose they'll say?"

"It doesn't matter what they say," Fox said, knowing too well the answer.

"Hey you there!" Cody called over to the stormtroopers. "What's your names?"

The largest one of them stood and crossed the room, Every patron that crossed his path quickly darted away. Fox found himself looking for his blaster but he remembered he didn't have it. All blasters were confiscated when a trooper went off duty.

"_I_ am TK-843," The stormtrooper said proudly as he loomed over the trio of clones. "My buddies are TK-325 and TK-982. What do you want, _clone_?"

"Just wanted to buy some of the Empire's finest another round," Cody grinned. "Get what you want, the barkeep will put it on my tab."

The trooper regarded Cody with a suspicious eye for a moment before grinning and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Rare to find a clone that's not completely up his own ass," he said. "We'll take those drinks old man!"

Cody nodded and waited for the stormtrooper to leave before turning back to Fox.

"Seems to me that _TK-843_ doesn't have a name," he said.

"What's your point Cody?" Fox said.

"My point is that you're not in the GAR anymore, you haven't been in it for over two decades. It's gone and dead, replaced by the stormtrooper corps. I'm here because I want you to realize that you don't have to be part of it anymore. You can be part of something you actually believe in again."

"I am part of something I believe in," Fox insisted. "I was created to serve and protect the government."

"No, you were created to serve and protect the Republic," Kix said. "The Republic doesn't exist anymore."

"Don't you miss the days when we were fighting clankers instead of kids, when we liberated planets, when the battles we fought actually had a purpose? Or are you like those numbers over there that gets off on just breaking stuff and killing people. Tell me, when was the last time you actually fought an enemy? Not some backwater moisture farmer that didn't pay his taxes, not some teenager that's breaking curfew? When was the last time CC-1010?"

"My name is Fox," came the reply.

"Not according to your compatriots over there," Cody nodded at the stormtroopers. "Not according to the Empire you serve. The Empire that made you murder the only people that actually gave a damn about you."

"The Jedi were traitors…" Fox said automatically, the words felt like bile in his mouth. He hated even thinking them.

"Really? You wanna tell me what the last Jedi you saw was doing before you helped gun him down?"

"Besides General Kenobi," Kix said. "But we'll get to him in a moment."

"We all heard the Order," Fox said. "That means they were attempting a coup."

"Answer my question CC-1010," Cody said. "What was the last Jedi you saw during the Clone Wars doing?"

"Fox, my name is Fox," he replied, pressing his fingertips hard against the tabletop.

"General Kenobi was busy fighting Separatists when I tried to gun him down," Cody said.

"General Ki-Adi-Mundi was leading a charge on Mygeeto, when I shot him," Kix said without even a hint of levity that he had had earlier.

"I… I was on Coruscant," Fox let a slow breath out. "I was part of Operation Knightfall. The Jedi weren't ready for us at all. They… only defended themselves."

"We've all got their blood on our hands," Cody said. "And deep down, no matter how many ways we tell ourselves differently, we know that they were not traitors."

"We did as we were ordered," Fox said. "Good soldiers follow orders."

"No, we did as we were programmed," Cody said. "And it was wrong, you know that _CC-1010._"

"My. Name. is. _Fox_!" he snarled. "I suggest you start using it _CC-2224_!"

"His name is Cody," Kix said.

"Yeah, so just cause you're both rebels you think that entitles you to ignore my name?"

"Let me ask you another question," Cody said. "You saw the transmission with General Kenobi? What did you think of it?"

"Let me clarify before you answer," Kix said. "What did you think… _after_ feeling like you wanted to kill him?"

Fox felt slightly taken aback by the question; particularly the clarification. He had indeed seen the transmission and he most definitely had a moment, when all he could think about at seeing General Kenobi, was the fact that he needed to kill the Jedi. How could these two have possibly known that he'd felt that way? Sure they were brothers, but they couldn't read minds.

"I…" he thought of the moment in question. "… I remembered what it was like to serve under the Jedi. I remember how they always treated us like we were actual people. They knew we had a job to do but they never wasted lives it they could help it."

"In other words," Cody said. "The exact opposite of the way you've been treated since Order 66. You've been treated like property and a slave. You've been mocked by stormtroopers and been met with fear from everyone else. And now, after all the blood and sweat you've given the Empire, it's going to discharge you without so much as a letter of recognition for your service."

"It's not right," Fox said gripping the tabletop. "We deserved better! We saved lives! We beat the Separatists!"

"You're damn right we deserve better!" Cody said. "But the Emperor never intended for us to have better. We were a tool used to kill the Jedi and then discarded. You deserve better than that Fox. Join us in the Rebellion and you'll finally get the respect you've earned. You'll serve under a Jedi again, you'll be fighting on the side of honor again an…"

"You… you can save your speech Commander," Fox said. "I can see your reasons for switching sides. I might even agree with some of them. But I'm too much of a career man. They may be discharging me, but I'll be discharged with honor."

"There's no honor in the Empire," Cody said.

"I'm part of the Empire," Fox said. "I have honor and I'll show the rest of them that."

"There has to be a way we can change your mind," Kix said.

"Sorry guys," Fox stood. "As much as I wish it were the old days… turning against the Empire won't bring them back."

Neither Cody nor Kix made any attempt to stop him as he left. They'd made their pitch and he knew them enough to know that they would respect his decisions; just as he, begrudgingly, respected theirs. He never thought he'd see eye to eye with clones that turned their back on the Rep… on the Empire. But after that meeting he had to admit that Cody and Kix were still good men.

Good men, fighting on the other side.

Fox exited the lounge and shook his head. It looked like another heavy rain was coming. He had neglected to bring a coat. Another sign of old age finally kicking in. If he hurried he could still get to shelter before it started coming down. He was still on leave for the next twelve hours but right now, all he wanted was to get back to his barracks, lie on his cot, and try to forget everything he saw that day.

He was on his way to do just that as he passed by the alley between the 79's and its adjacent building. Had he not been so deep in thought he might have seen the shadows looming toward him. He might have heard the footsteps. Instead he was taken completely unawares as a pair of beefy hands latched onto him and threw him into the alley way.

"What did they say to you _clone_?" the large stormtrooper, TK-843 said, surrounded by his companions.

"What the hell soldier?!" Fox stood up. "You can't just attack me like-"

"I can do whatever I want, clone!" TK-843 said. "I'm a stormtrooper commander! Unlike you I actually deserve to be in the Stormtrooper corps! Now tell me what they said."

"Catching up on old times," Fox said.

"What a load of poodoo," TK-843 rolled his eyes. "I recognize an aural scramble when I see one! They were trying to keep their conversation private. The Empire doesn't like private conversations."

"Especially after a Jedi Terrorist hijacks the holo-net," one of his compatriots added.

"Now you're going to tell us what they want, then we're going to beat you within an inch of your manufactured life, then we'll take you in."

"Not much of a negotiator are you," Fox clenched his fists together. "Most people would have said 'or'."

"I don't have to negotiate," TK-843 grinned. "I serve the Empire."

The stormtroopers rushed Fox and he got himself ready. In his prime, he might have been able to take these guys. Though their leader would have been the toughest considering his size. Now though? He knew he was going to be lucky if he got out of this with his legs still working on their own.

Luckily, it never came to that. Just short of reaching him, all three of them toppled to the ground with blaster holes burned into their backs. Fox looked from their bodies to Cody and Kix standing in the alley way. Both of them held smoking hold out blasters that could easily be concealed in their clothes.

"M… might have expected this kind of treachery from a bunch of clones," coughed TK-843 . "T… taking weapons from your garrison when you're o… off duty."

"Not clones… " Cody aimed his weapon as he casually strolled toward them. "… Rebels."

Cody squeezed the trigger and finished the stormtrooper off as Kix moved to Fox and helped him up.

"I'm alright," Fox said, knowing Kix's medical training was likely kicking in. He then straightened up and looked to Cody. "I've dealt with that kind of attitude from stormtroopers for years. Never been on the receiving end of it though, not like that. After careful reconsideration, I think I would like to enter service with General Kenobi, sir."

Cody laid a hand on Fox's shoulder and nodded. "Good to have you with us again brother."

"When do I start?" Fox said.

"Funny you should ask," Cody grinned. "I've got everything set up in the private lounge, you've got a chip in your head that needs removing. After that, General Kenobi has a job for us to do right here and now. Welcome to the Rebellion Commander Fox."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>_

_**Coming in less than two weeks. A very special Halloween update.**_

**Reviewer Responses:**

**ErinKenobi2893**

Glad you liked the last update. You'll have to wait a little longer to know about Luke and Leia though. Thanks for reading!

**Quathis**

This won't be a repeat of Shadows of the Empire, but yes, Xizor does have his hands involved in this. Glad you liked the chapter!

**Carycomic**

Who says that Xizor is playing for anyone but himself? You'll soon find out! Thanks for reading!

**Louie Pastiche**

I'm officially done cribbing on Doctor Jones, but I got a kick out of putting them there. Thanks for reading!


	5. C-3PO

"Help! Help! I'm being stolen! Somebody do something!"

Zorsk gritted his teeth. The droid had been on like this every since the marketplace. Had they had the time, they might have stopped and switched it off, free themselves of its prattle. But they all knew they needed to get away from the marketplace.

Their masters had arranged for the Empire to cease surveillance in the area and not send any security forces… for a time. Once that time expired, all bets were off. The Empire would arrest any gangsters with impunity. And given the day's events, the Empire was likely to arrest anyone caught so much as jaywalking.

"Artoo Artoo can you hear me!" the droid cried over to his companion, who the others carried. "Oh this is just like you! Switched off when you could actually be useful!"

"I say we slag him," Vsssasth muttered in their native Falleen tongue, grunting slightly as he and two others hefted the R2 unit.

"And come to the boss empty handed?" Ryton said. "May as well slag ourselves."

"We got the Astro," Vsssasth said. "Would be good enough."

Nimon, who helped carry the protocol droid, nodded.

"We don't know if the others got the Princess," Zorsk said. "Until we do we need both droids as insurance. And don't bother trying to conceal our speech, the protocol droid can understand every word we could ever think to use."

"That is true," C-3PO said. "I am fluent in over six million forms of communication… and am very very valuable so you most certainly shouldn't slag me!"

"What say you Grogg?" Vsssasth looked to their last member.

He merely grunted, but he could do little else. The princess's body guard, or whoever he was, had broken his jaw in the scuffle.

"I think we can all agree with that," Zorsk said. "Now, we're almost to the safe house, then we can contact the others and see if they managed to get the Princess or not. After that we can decide what to do with the droids.

With the way that Vsssasth hemmed and hawed the entire way, it was quite clear he didn't like it, but he wasn't so dumb that he would challenge them; especially when he knew Zorsk was right. They'd all been given the same mission and each of them had fallen to the Princess or her companions. When they'd woken up, they'd found the Princess, her bodyguard, and the wookiee missing. But as luck would have it, their prey had left their droids behind.

The R2 unit of course provided the most difficult challenge. It tazed poor Grogg pretty badly before they managed to switch it off. After that it was a matter of hefting the droids on their shoulders and making their way through the market. Their safe house was not too far away, Zorsk had selected it with exactly this sort of thing in mind. As long as they got there quickly enough they would be fine.

And fine they were. After all their jostling, and heaving, and cursing, they finally made it to the safe house. It was an older structure but it wouldn't be on anybody else's sensors. They'd seen what happened to 'minions' that failed to achieve the wishes of the Black Sun. They knew it was far wiser to not return at all, than to return empty handed.

And since none of them had been conscious to see if the Princess had indeed been taken… it only made sense to come here.

The lights flicked on automatically upon entering. Zorsk dumped the protocol droid in a corner and immediately went to the comm-station. First order of business was to contact the others, find out if they met success where Zorsk hadn't. If the Princess was safely in their custody, then they would join the others, if not, a ship waited for them to blast their way to the Outer Rim.

Tatooine or perhaps Nar Shadda would do.

The others busied themselves by checking their armaments and supplies in the other rooms. Still others worked to find the restraining bolt they'd kept lying around. Given the trouble the astrodroid had given them it seemed a reasonable precaution.

Zorsk cursed as he tried to get a secure channel. Ordinarily he would assume the security systems installed in the comm-unit more than capable of providing a secure line. But with the Kenobi incident earlier that day, the Empire would likely be enacting in double or triple measures to listen in on every conversation on Coruscant.

"I say, you do seem to be having a time of it," the protocol droids voice came from behind him.

"What do you know about it?" Zorsk grunted.

"It just seems that you are taking an inordinate amount of time to make a simple communication. Not with a classic comm-station model such as this. Now some of the equipment that I've been forced to use over these last few years… dreadful. I was just telling Artoo the other day that…"

"I don't care what you were telling the astrodroid," Zorsk turned to the bipedal machine. "The only reason you're not switched off like he is, is because we have much more important things to worry about. If you want to keep it that way I suggest you go and stand in the corner and shut up!"

"Oh… oh I'm so terribly sorry! I certainly didn't mean to bother! I can assure you I will be no trouble at all! I was only trying to help!"

"Help?" Zorsk grumbled. "Why would you help us? We stole you!"

"Yes but you also threatened to slag me! I can think of no other way to ensure that doesn't happen than to… to do something to show that I am of value! But you told me to be quiet and I shall!"

The droid began shuffling over to his deactivated counterpart but Zorsk thought better of it.

"Wait… you mentioned using older comm-units?"

"Yes sir," the droid said. "I spent many years aboard a blockade runner and one of my primary duties was operating a TC-88 communications console. Yours is a clone wars era model but is similar in many respects."

"Do you know now to create a secure channel?"

"That sir, would be highly illegal," droid's voice came in judgmental tones, but he threw his hands up when Zorsk glared at him. "But I did not say it was something I could not do! As a matter of fact I have much experience in creating encoded messages."

"Fine, I will supply the comm-code and then I want you to encode a message for me simply asking if 'the package has been delivered.' Can you do that?"

"I… I'm afraid that I if I am to do that, I will need the aide of my counterpart Artoo Deetoo. While I am capable of entering the proper encoding… on a unit such as this, we will need a more direct interference to ensure a truly secure line. Only Artoo will be able to provide that."

"Fine, fine," Zorsk said then looked around to his men, or where he knew them to be in other rooms. "Ryton! You have that restraining bolt yet?"

"I can assure you sir that that won't be necessary," the droid said. "I have made my intentions on cooperating quite clear."

"Not for you Protocol droid!" Zorsk hissed. "For the astro-unit."

"We do a have names sir," the droid said. "It is C-3PO, human/cyborg relations and he is R2-D2."

"And I don't care," Zorsk said.

Ryton finally appeared, holding the restraining bolt and activator in hand.

"We really need someone to organize this place," he muttered. "I found this in a tool box sitting next to a plasma torch. If that thing had activated it would have melted within seconds."

"You should be thankful this place is so well stocked," Zorsk muttered. "And if you want to take your time and straighten everything out, be my guest. Now put that thing on the astro-droid and make sure it doesn't try anything funny."

"What about the protocol droid?" Ryton said.

"It won't cause any problems, I have it working on getting us a secure line."

Ryton set to work on the astromech all the while C-3PO fiddled with the comm-station. Zorsk decided he could finally find the time to take a deep breath and maybe even find a secluded room where he could take a couple of hits of the spice he'd bought before the job. That would take the edge off nicely. He passed Grogg in one room, using a medkit to work on his swollen jaw, before finally coming to the loader room where he intended to use his spice. Surrounded by cargo crates, it felt like a secluded enough spot.

And apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so.

Just as Zorsk had begun fishing into his pocket for the spice, he heard a rustling amongst the crates and then sudden hushed voices. Zorsk whipped out his blaster and rushed at the noises. Maybe the Black Sun had already sent another team to deal with them for failing.

Instead of assassins, however, he found Vsssasth lying on a cot with his half dressed twi'lek bimbo of a girlfriend, Ta'dia. For half a second, Zorsk still considered pulling the trigger, then Ta'dia screamed and fell off the cot and Zorsk merely glared at Vsssasth.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he said.

"We might be going on the run!" Vsssasth said. "You think I would leave without her?"

"Because it would be impossible for her to just book passage on Star Tours and come to our location later," Zorsk said. "And speaking of 'going on the run', you're supposed to be making sure our ship is ready for take off!"

"The preflight sequence takes no time at all," Vsssasth waved a hand lazily.

"Neither does a blaster bolt to the head," Zorsk hissed, holstering his weapon, yet leaving his hand on the grip. "Now get to the ship and-"

The room shook, and thunderous 'boom' cut off his threat; leaving the three of them staring in shock and horror at the central hub where it came from. Zorsk ignored Vsssasth and his schutta fumbling to get to their feet as he rushed in, blaster drawn. His eyes widened at the site of the comm-station roaring in flames with Ryton and the protocol droid laying in pieces around it.

"Oh… oh my!" C-3PO cried, his head laying several feet from his body. "I seem to have lost my head."

Zorsk clenched his teeth. Unlike the droid, Ryton would never be quipping one-liners again.

"What happened!?" Zorsk strode over the remains of his partner and picked the droid's slightly scorched head up.

"I… I'm not entirely sure!" C-3PO said. "Artoo and I were rerouting the auxiliary signal and asked your compatriot for a hand. I warned him to be careful, as the boosted signal might cause the system to overload and… oh dear, oh dear. Nothing happened to him did it?"

"What do you think?" Zorsk hissed and tossed the droid's head next to where Ryton's lay.

"You! Astrodroid! Put out those flames!"

The little droid merely beeped indignantly.

"Artoo! This is no time to be brave! Do what he says!"

The astromech whirred and let loose a flurry of electronic noises that Zorsk neither understood nor cared to. If not for the fact that a astro-droid was worth almost its weight in credits given the right markets, he would have blasted the damned thing.

"I… I'm sorry sir," C-3PO said. "But Artoo says he will only put out the fire if he is allowed to put me back together first."

"I told you we should have slagged them," Vsssasth said.

"We don't have time for this," Zorsk said then looked at the squat little droid. "Fire first, then your friend. If you don't I will blast his head apart."

"What no! Artoo! Put the fire out! Put the fire out!"

The astro-droid hooted lowly and a nozzle emerged from its innards, spitting out fire retardant foam. Only then, when the flames finally died down, did Zorsk allow himself to truly comprehend what had happened. They'd come here to be safe, and Ryton had died. They would need to dispose of his body, or at least get it out of the way.

"Now can he reassemble me?" C-3PO said.

Zorsk growled then kicked the droids head over to the rest of his body. Ryton dead or not, they still could sell these droids for a tidy profit, they would need that if the Princess hadn't been captured. That's when Zorsk remembered the reason Ryton was dead.

"You, droid!" he called over, even as the astrodroid had begun the process of reassembling C-3PO. "Before the accident, did you get the message out?"

"What message?" the droid said.

"The encoded message I told you to send you infernal machine!"

"Oh… yes I believe so! I'm sorry but I sent the message just before it overloaded. I cannot be certain it got through."

"And now we have no way of knowing if they replied," Vsssasth said.

"As soon as you are repaired," Zorsk said to the droid. "You will begin work on repairing the comm-station."

Zorsk did not bother to listen to the droid's prattle or protestations. His head still spun from the thought of one of his allies dying in such an ignominious way; not to mentionhis ears still rung from the force of the explosion. He heaved a sigh before ordering Vsssasth and his wench to clean up Ryton's body. Now, more than ever, he needed his spice.

But even as he moved away from the room, he knew it would not be so. Nimon approached him purposefully, his brow wrinkled and his skin an ashen gray. A sure sign of worry in a Falleen.

"This… not an accident," he said in hushed tones.

"What do you mean?" Zorsk narrowed his eyes.

"Not an accident…" Nimon said. "Princess… we go after princess because of _him_… the one our Masters want."

"So?"

"I hear stories. I hear that there is something… protecting him. Comet Killers gang all dead after capturing him," Nimon leaned in closer. "Most died from cuts that burned."

"He carries a laser sword," Zorsk rolled his eyes.

"Not just him… this place," Nimon said. "Back when the Empire was born… this belonged to Jedi. Old Lal tell me. When the Empire killed the Jedi… a group came here, just like us, to escape. The Lord Darth Vader hunted them down and slaughtered all of them. Younglings, padawans, even Knights. This place is not a place of safety, it is a place of death."

A vein in Zorsk's forehead throbbed and he was certain his skin would be taking on a ruddy hue by now.

"So what…" He finally said. "You think that Jedi ghosts blew up the comm-station to kill Ryton?"

"I do not know, I only know that we are not safe here. We should take the ship and go."

"And you think that is haunted too?"

"Fine," Nimon furrowed his brow. "Do not believe me, but you will see."

Zorsk bit back a response and let his compatriot go. He had much more important things to worry about than whether or not this place was haunted by dead Jedi. What a ridiculous notion! Then again just about anything about the Jedi of the Old Republic spooked people. Baby snatchers they were, or at least that's what he had heard of them.

Just about to find himself some privacy, Zorsk almost jumped in surprise when his commlink went off. It had been tied to the comm-station… how could it have been working all of the sudden? For a fleeting second he considered the ghost story he'd just heard but then the commlink flared to life again.

"Zorsk," Vsssasth said. "I am aboard the ship, I need you to send the protocol droid here."

"Why?"

"I thought to use the communications console here in the ship, but the damned thing only responds to Huttese!"

"You don't speak Huttese?"

"Do you?"

"No, but Ryton… did… very well, I will send the droid."

Zorsk swept back into the communications hub where the protocol droid sat with his head finally reattached to his body. The astromech had some sort of appendage out that sparked every time it touched C-3PO's neck.

"Well that's no good at all! Everything is purple!" C-3PO said. "Will you pay attention to what you're doing?"

"You, protocol droid…"

"I am C-3PO: human/cyborg rela-"

"Shut up!" Zorsk said then ordered the droid to the ship to aid Vsssasth. As soon as it left, he looked to the astromech. "While he's gone, I want a preliminary diagnostic on that comm-station. I need to know if they got our message."

The droid beeped noncommittally and Zorsk considered getting the caller to make it comply. What was with this droid? He'd never seen one that so thoroughly disobeyed direct orders. Even stolen droids did as they were told most of the time.

Finally the astromech swiveled around and plugged its scomp-arm into the remains of the socket on the terminal. Seconds later, everything went dark. Instinctively, Zorsk drew his blaster, this could be an assassination attempt. The astrodroid let out a frightened hoot and Zorsk focused in on its blinking lights.

"What did you do?"

An angry warbling response came. He didn't speak droid but it was apparent the droid was offended at the suggestion of its culpability. Though, given how uncooperative it had been, Zorsk doubted its sincerity. A bright light popped up from its dome and the astromech began unplugging from the terminal.

"Don't unplug!" Zorsks said. "You turned the lights off now you turn them back on!"

The droid "argued" in more of its electronic language and Zorsk trained his blaster on it. "I said, don't unplug!"

With a worried beep the droid set to work, only to scream out and fly a few feet away; its body shimmering with electric feedback. Zorsk ran to it only to see its lights fade out. Astrodroids were hearty machines but there was no way he could reboot it in the dark.

Taking a couple of seconds to think, Zorsk recalled the location of some emergency lights in the storage room. But first thing was first, he could open the main door well enough in the dark to supply himself at least some light.

But when he hit the activation switch, nothing happened.

Zorsk took it from his belt and pointed it right at the main door. He pressed it again and again, until he was mashing the button as hard as he could against the housing but the door did not so much as budge. Striding over to the door he fumbled until he found the manual release switches, only to feel them locked tight… it would take a loader droid or something equally as powerful to wrench them open.

Fighting back any sense of panic, Zorsk fumbled his way to the storage room, but once inside he couldn't find the shelf with the emergency lights. Outside he heard the others yelling at each other, trying to figure out what was going on, but he knew that the situation would only get worse without light.

Just as he found the box, right next to the plasma torches, he thought he heard a noise. At first he thought it some errant wind from the enviro-controls and started to go back to his rummaging, but then it issued again; pricking his ears with its quiet, unsettling tones. It was a small, low moaning, almost like a child.

Yet as soon as he concentrated on listening, the sound vanished.

Under normal circumstances, Zorsk might have still ignored the sound, but his mind ran wild with images of Ryton's burnt body and the whispered words of Nimon's ghost story. He could do nothing but still himself, even hold h is breath, in an attempt to hear the noise again; to be certain whether it was his imagination, or something far more sinister.

Again, he listened, and again he heard nothing. At least until Ta'dia shouted something, presumably at Nimon and something shattered. Zorsk rolled his eyes and clasped the lights he'd found. Just as he switched one on, he again heard the quiet sobbing, this time more distinctly than ever. He directed the light toward the sound but saw nothing.

Yet as he drew closer, the sobbing was overtaken by something else. It died down some, only to be overshadowed, from some other part of the room, by a slow, steady, rhythmic breathing sound. He recognized the noise right away. Everyone in the Galaxy recognized that noise. Darth Vader had given addresses on the holo-net more than enough for the hollow noise of his respirator to be infamous.

Instinctively, Zorsk reached for his blaster at this point why he didn't have it permanently drawn was beyond him. Another sobbing noise assaulted his ears and he stumbled, hitting the back of his legs on a stray crate. Every time he directed the light toward one of the noises, it disappeared. Was he going mad? Had the stress of everything that had just happened finally gotten to him?

He focused on just one noise and followed it, Vader's breathing. No crimson lightsaber had pierced the darkness so he did not know if he needed to believe the Dark Lord was there. All he knew was that it was the most distinct noise, and it came from a nearby closet.

Going slowly, he made his way toward said closet, careful to keep the light from directly shining on it as the breathing would cease. As he grew closer, a low rumble was added to murmurs and breathing. He'd heard tales that sometimes, when a Jedi or a Sith manipulated the Force, there would be a barely audible rumble.

He drew his blaster and reached for the door. A trickle of sweat ran down his brow and the breathing grew louder and the sobs more desperate. Zorsk gulped in a couple of lungs full of air and stretched a finger to activate the door switch. The door slid open and the air was suddenly rent by a horrified scream. But it wasn't from any of these odd disembodied noises. It distinctively came from the other room, and it most assuredly came from Ta'dia.

Zorsk bolted, shining his light ahead of him, ignoring how the whispers had become laughter as he exited the room. He tried to run through the main comm-room but tripped, realizing to his horror, that he'd fallen over Ryton's body. Hadn't he told them to take care of it?

He dragged himself up, ignoring the terrified protocol droid shuffling in from the hanger, and reached the room the screaming had come from. Inside, Ta'Dia clutched desperately to Vsssasth, who pulled her away from… something. Zorsk, directed his light to a huddled form… Nimon squatting over a prone figure. Zorsk's head pounded as he directed the beam over the body. Grogg… covered in scorch marks. But not a random blast like it had been with Ryton.

"Lightsaber burns!" Nimon said. "Lightsaber burns look at them! We must leave!"

"This can't be happening!" Vsssasth said. "Why would the Lord Darth Vader want us dead?"

"You heard it too?" Zorsk said.

"Heard what?" Vsssasth said. "Who else would use a laser sword to kill someone?"

"Kenobi and the boy both use them too," Nimon said, oddly being the voice of reason. "But there is no denying, Grogg, killed by a lightsaber."

"What… what is happening?" the synthetic voice of C-3PO said, finally reaching the room. His big round photoreceptors glowed eerily in the darkness. "Oh my! Another accident?"

"No accident!" Ta'Dia said. "We must go! We must leave! Someone is trying to kill us!"

"But why?" Vsssasth said. "No one knows we're here!"

"What if we got the message out," Zorsk said. "What if the Black Sun came to kill us?"

"They would just send mercenaries like us," Nimon said. "This is something much darker."

"We're also locked in," Zorsk said then slowly eyed the others.

"I… I beg your pardon," C-3PO said. "But if we are locked in, and these are indeed murders. Then wouldn't that mean someone here is… oh no…"

Zorsk turned to the others. They'd drawn their blasters. Even Ta'dia who never stood to get a piece of the prize.

"Why would we kill each other?" Nimon said.

"Fewer people, larger cut," Vsssasth said.

"Now… everyone just remain calm," C-3PO said as four pairs of eyes glowered at one another. "I'm certain that if we all just lower our weapons we can work out a peaceful solution."

"It was you wasn't it," Vsssasth said, glaring at Zorsk, his finger inched over the trigger. "All of this was your idea to come here… where you could pick us off one by one."

"I wasn't in the room when Grogg died!" Zorsk said.

"No one was!" Ta'dia said. "I came looking for someone to help get the lights on… I found him."

"Which means that for all we know, you did it," Zorsk said. "So you and Vsssasth could take my share!"

"Watch your mouth!" Vsssasth said. "That's my girl you're talking about!"

"Your girl that was never invited to come here, that shouldn't even know this place exists!" Zorsk said.

"Quiet all of you!" Nimon said. "Can you not hear that?"

The squabbling trio hushed down and listened. For a moment, the only noises they heard were the occasional whir that came from the protocol droid's joints when it moved around. But very slowly, from the dark, they heard the faint breathing that Zorsk had been so transfixed by earlier. But there was more than that, there was laughing as well.

"What is that breathing?" Ta'dia said, clutching onto.

"It is the Lord Darth Vader," Nimon said. "Come to take what's his."

"I'm sorry…" C-3PO said. "But what does _that_ mean? My audio receptors register nothing."

"Our lives!" Nimon said. "The dead Jedi have brought him here! We must leave this place!"

"I heard those noises earlier!" Zorsk said. "There is nothing in that room."

"You heard noises that could not be found?!" Nimon said. "We must go! We will go to ship! Take our chances with Black Sun!"

"He's right we should go to the ship!" Ta'dia said, trying to pull Vsssasth with her toward the hanger. "Whatever it is out there, the Lord Darth Vader, spirits, or whatever… we will die if we stay here!"

"Everyone calm down and shut up!" Zorsk yelled but Nimon and Ta'dia had already bolted from the room with Vsssasth staggering behind, too afraid to turn his back to Zorsk.

Finally he went, knocking down the protocol droid in the process and Zorsk followed suit. He did not know if going to the ship was the best idea, but he had no intention of being left behind in the dark.

He entered the main hub just as Ta'dia and Nimon rushed into the hanger. Seconds later he heard mechanical servos shift and the room lit up in blaster fire. Their screams echoed through the hall and Vsssasth barely managed to pull himself back before the blaster bolts could cut him in half as well.

"The… the ship!" Vsssasth cried, his face a mask of horror. "It's guns! Ta'dia! Ta'dia! No!"

He tried to run back into the room but more blaster bolts spat out at him. Zorsk dragged him away, all the while Vsssasth sobbed and screamed over his lost lover. Zorsk slammed the door pad and the hallways door clapped shut, keeping themselves safe from further barrages. And though they could hear the blaster fire, muted from behind the doors… they also heard the steady, unrelenting breathing, now seemingly coming from all around them.

"This is madness!" Vsssasth said, gripping Zorsk by his shoulders.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Zorsk shook him.

"Ta'dia is dead! We're trapped! Something is trying to kill us!"

"Then we have to think of a way out of here!"

"The doors!" Vsssasth said. "The doors, we can blast the locks!"

"Those locks won't give easily," Zorsk said. "We should see if we can't find another way out first."

"All the while whoever is trying to kill us has more time?" Vsssasth snarled. "You have lead us all to our doom! I should never have listened to you!"

Zorsk only half heartedly tried to hold Vsssasth back. He had no better ideas and he knew that the other Falleen would likely shoot him if he tried to stop him. The low moans seemed to join the breathing and Zorsk whirled about, trying to find the source of the noise. This was no assassin, assassins didn't 'play with their food.' But something… wanted them dead and was doing a good job at it.

"I'm ready," Vsssasth said after taking several long minutes to examine the lock. "You going to help or what?"

Zorsk took a breath and nodded, he leveled his blaster at the locking mechanism. It would take precise shooting to destroy it in such a way that it didn't fuse with the metal around it. He knew he could do it, but he didn't know about his fellow survivor.

"Now!" Vsssasth shouted and squeezed the trigger of his blaster.

Except he didn't blast the door. Instead he burst into flames.

Zorsk reeled backward as Vsssasth flailed helplessly. His screams echoed as the flames consumed his body. Perhaps in desperation or maybe out of spite, he started at Zorsk, grasping at the air just in front of the horrified mercenary. For his part, Zorsk kept backing up keeping just out of reach shouting in vain for Vsssasth to lay down, to stop moving.

Then he toppled over, not only over Ryton's body, but also Nimon's, Grogg's and Ta'dia's. How they came to all be piled up in the room… he knew not, nor did he have time to care. The smoldering form of Vsssasth loomed over him and he acted on instinct, firing his blaster into the burning merc's chest and rolling out of the way just in time for his body to land on top of the others, setting them ablaze as well.

Amidst the flaming bodies, Zorsk crawled away. His heart raced and his head pounded. All of them dead. All of them gone. Except him. Whatever force worked against them had won. The growing flames illuminated the room in horrific light and the desperate Falleen merc trained his blaster on any shadow he thought might be the ghost of a dead padawan.

He had no other explanation as to what could have happened here.

Over the fire, he heard a noise, at first he feared it was the damned breathing again. No, instead it was the whirring noise of the protocol droid as it wandered in the room. For half a second Zorsk was glad it was there. He could use it somehow to escape!

But his relief evaporated into confusion when, through the haze, and the smoke, he spotted a blaster in the droid's hands. The droid shook slightly and the blaster wavered. The breathing returned from behind and Zorks, in spite of sitting next to a pile of flaming corpses, felt his blood run cold.

"D… don't come any closer!" the droid said, trying to aim the blaster at whatever it was behind Zorsk. "I… I'm warning you!"

Zorsk, in spite of the fear, in spite of the breathing, and the utter dread of seeing his comrades die one by one, gripped his blaster and spun around, determined to take out what had been responsible for the slaughter. Instead he saw only darkness… and seconds later, the world erupted into pain.

A blaster shot had went off and struck his hand. He screamed and dropped his own weapon. Smoke curled from the protocol droid's blaster as it approached. Zorsk's fear turned to rage as he cradled his hand, trying desperately to curl his damaged fingers.

"Fool droid! Put that thing away before you accidentally hit me again!"

"Oh I'm so sorry," the droid said. "But you see, that was no accident."

Zorsk felt the blood drain from his face. His eyes snapped from the advancing droid to the pile of bodies. It couldn't be!

"You… you killed them!? But you're a protocol droid!"

"Statement: You must be thinking of C-3PO, he is programmed for etiquette and protocol," the droid said. Then the lights in its photoreceptors blinked and went red. When it spoke again it had a new, darker voice. "Introduction: I am HK-47. I am programmed for murder and mayhem."

"I… I don't understand…"

"Statement: Of course you don't understand, your crude meatbag brain could scarcely comprehend it. Suffice it to say, I am an assassin droid who's programming has been hitchhiking within the confines of the protocol droid's circuits," the droid said. "Confession: It is a distinct pleasure to actively killing again. I am dormant most of the time."

"You… you're with the Black Sun?" Zorsk tried to ease his non-damaged hand toward his blaster. "They've sent you here to kill us because we failed to capture the princess?"

"Statement: I was traveling _with_ the princess. Have you already forgotten?" HK-47 said. "I only activated when I saw the need to… procure answers after your shoddy group of mercenaries actually managed to take her. Had you simply followed their plan you'd no doubt be getting rewarded handsomely."

Zorsk reached out for his blaster but the droid fired first, crippling his other hand. Amidst the howls of pain, HK-47, in C-3PO's body, drew nearer. Zorsk tried crawling away but the droid fired again, this time hitting one of his knees.

"Contemplation: There are days that I miss the autonomy and efficiency of my old body, but even I can't deny the effectiveness of modern protocol droid model," HK-47 said. "Observation: In all of this clamor, and running about, not once did you suspect the protocol droid. I was allowed to move, as if unseen, transmitting a code from the comm-station to the ship so it would only speak in Huttese, rigging the console to explode, placing hidden commlinks around the room to imitate 'spooky' sounds."

"But… but Grogg… the lightsaber wounds?"

"Clarification: Those were not lightsaber wounds, but rather scorch marks from a plasma torch. Under normal circumstances no one would mistake the two, but in the dark, and to the untrained eyes of some mentally slow mercs… they were quite convincing."

"And Vsssasth?"

"Statement: While he tried to cozy up to his woman in the ship, I rigged his blaster to backfire," the droid said. "This has all been very fun!"

"What… what do you want from me?"

"Statement: You? Very little. Much of this was merely an exercise in impromptu assassination to make sure I was still at peak efficiency. I'm pleased to report that I am," the droid loomed over him. "Normally when I rig up a death trap it's with much more preparation and theatricality, I did quite well for myself given the situation."

"You're sick! You're crazy!"

"Negatory: Those are meatbag ailments, I am no more capable of those than I am of mercy," The droid leveled his blaster at Zork's head. "Ultimatum: You will now tell me the location of the princess and what the Black Sun wants with her. Then I will reboot Artoo Deetoo and be on my way."

"We… it's not about her!" Zorsk said. "Someone has been causing trouble for the Black Sun! Someone named Sunrider."

"Observation: That is an alias used by Luke Skywalker," HK-47 said. "Does the Black Sun know this?"

"I have no idea, all I know is that Prince Xizor got wind that Princess Organa is important to Sunrider and arranged for this trap. She is to be bait."

The droid simply stared at him for a long moment, not moving, not talking, not even so much as flinching. It just kept the blaster leveled at his face. Zorsk searched for some escape but none presented themselves.

"Statement: If Xizor does not yet know who Luke Skywalker is, then there is still time to salvage this operation. Very well, I must be going."

The droid turned around and headed toward the R2 unit, tossing the blaster to the side of the room, well out of range for Zorsk to get to it, especially considering what had been done to him. He could only watch in trepidation and possible relief that the droid no longer seemed interested in him. Instead, it busied itself with straightening up the astrodroid and examining the minor damage done to it.

"Statement: Oh, it would seem I forgot one tiny detail before I go," HK-47 said, straightening up and looking at Zorsk. "I forgot that I was supposed to step on your throat until you choked to death."

Zorsk screamed for help, but no one, not a single soul heard him. Well almost no one. HK-47 heard every syllable. If he could smile, he surely would have. For him, it was the little things in life. Pretending to be innocent, silently working behind the scenes… and crushing the life out of any meatbag that got in his way. C-3PO wouldn't remember a thing… but he would agree with the sentiment, even after he and R2 returned to the spot they were supposed to meet Han and Chewbacca.

Life as a droid was good.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Halloween!<strong>

Review Responses:

**Ky111**:

Thanks! Yes, Obi-wan is the type of guy that likes to have more than one plan going at a time if he can manage it. And I just couldn't resist 'getting the gang' back together with the Clones, I find the difference between them and the stormtroopers fascinating. And you're quite right that the Clone troopers will serve as a way to really get the Rebels into fighting shape! Thanks for reading!

**Louie Pastiche**:

Nothing to do with Mistryl Shadow Guards... unless there was way more to Snow White and Belle than any of us knew! Thanks for reading!

**Cary Comic**:

It was originally TK-8438 but then I decided that I should make all the stormtroopers have three numbers instead of four. I thought I changed all the TK references but apparently I missed one. I went back and changed it after you mentioned it. As for moot/mote, I can't recall you correcting me on that, but it's possible. I make mistakes like that often. Thanks for reading!

**Bex**:

Thanks for reading!

**GabrielaTJ**:

Glad you liked the portrayal of Fox! Thanks for reading!

**Quathis**:

Yeah, I really think the difference between clone and stormtroopers are interesting. One group starts completely uniform and with serial numbers, but wind up making themselves individuals and give themselves names. The other group starts as individuals but then surrenders all of that to be uniform in look and give up their names. Anyway, you've got another piece of the Xizor puzzle here, more to come! Thanks for reading!

**Hurricane Jackson**:

Glad you liked it all! Clones are fun to write! Thanks for reading!

**ErinKenobi2893**:

Let's hear it for the clones! Thanks for reading!

**Barbossa Rotbart**:

The idea to recruit clones was Cody's idea, but he has the full support of Obi-wan, just as long as they have their Order 66 brainchip removed. Thanks for reading!


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